The Miracle of Being Here and Going Home

I think about the movie “Shawshank Redemption” a good bit. In one of the most quotable conversations of the film, Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins) says to Red (Morgan Freeman):

“It comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living or get busy dying.”

And that might be the simplest breakdown, though likely too simple, of the last section of John O’Donohue’s “Anam Cara.” The section is called, “Death: The Horizon is the Well.”

Death has a lot to do with life. In our lives, negativity and fear exile us from our own love and warmth, O’Donohue says, and to live life fully we need to transfigure or transform the negativity and fear “by turning it toward the light of your soul.”

“Eventually what you call the negative side of yourself can become the greatest force for renewal, creativity, and growth within you.”

O’Donohue says that part of transforming this negativity and fear happens by us letting go of it.

“Mystics have always recognized that to come deeper into the divine presence within, you need to practice detachment. When you begin to let go, it is amazing how enriched your life becomes. False things, which you have desperately held on to, move away very quickly from you. Then what is real, what you love deeply, and what really belongs to you comes deeper into you.”

Like the subject of aging, which was the previous section in “Anam Cara,” we don’t like to think or talk about death. It is an absolute fact of life, but it’s not a place we are comfortable going in conversation. We see death as separate from life, an ending, a horizon that we head towards. O’Donohue points out that it doesn’t really work that way. He quotes Hans Georg Gadamer, who says:

“A horizon is something toward which we journey, but it is also something that journeys along with us.”

Death is something that is always with us, not just at the end. And there are ways that we can get to know it.

“The meeting with your own death in the daily forms of failure, pathos, negativity, fear, or destructiveness are actually opportunities to transfigure your ego. These are invitations to move out of that productive, controlling way of being toward an art of being that allows openness and hospitality.”

What we go through in life can help us live more deeply. When we risk something and fail or fall and learn and get back up and move on, we can learn to release our fear and anxiety about it. This is also true of death.

“When you learn to let go of things, a greater generosity, openness, and breath comes into your life. Imagine this letting go multiplied a thousand times at the moment of your death. That release can bring you to a completely new divine belonging.”

Our life and our faith can help us to see death as a release into a completely new divine belonging. We can see examples of the natural life cycle, birth, life, death, rebirth–in the landscape, in nature, and all around us.

In our lives, we can see and feel and know that love goes on beyond death, love is bigger.

If we see death as going into nothingness, O’Donohue points out that “nothingness is the sister of possibility.” There needs to be space, nothingness, in order to create. In the creation story in Genesis, out of a formless void, God uses light and creates space for things to happen.

“Nothingness is the sister of possibility. It makes an urgent space for that which is new, surprising, and unexpected… This is a call from your soul, awakening your life to new possibilities. It is also a sign that your soul longs to transfigure the nothingness of your death into the fullness of a life eternal, which no death can ever touch… Death is not the end; it is a rebirth.”

This is all heady stuff. We are dealing with something we have no first-hand experience of, it is not something we can know. But it’s something we come to know in terms of losing people we love. During the six weeks that our study was together, we had multiple people lose dear and close family members as well as bringing in home hospice care to care for a parent. Death is ever present and devastating when it claims those we love.

Some folks in our group found this chapter helpful, some felt it was a subject that was too close to process. The thing about a study like this, or a Bible study, or any small group of people who you meet with and are close to–I think Ram Dass put it beautifully in saying, “We are all walking each other home.” We need to be there for each other in the tender and tough times of loss and pain.

We get a chance to be there for one another. But as for those who have died, O’Donohue says, why grieve them?

“We do not need to grieve for the dead. Why should we grieve for them? They are now in a place where there is no more shadow, darkness, loneliness, isolation, or pain. They are home. They are with God from whom they came. They have returned to the nest of their identity within the great circle of God. God is the greatest circle of all, the largest embrace in the universe, which holds visible and invisible, temporal, and eternal, as one.”

There is the good stuff. Those who have passed have gone home. They are contained in the circle of God. They have moved from our temporal world into the eternal.

And then O’Donohue does something cool. He talks about how he sees eternal time:

“In eternal time all is now; time is presence. I believe that is what eternal life means: it is a life where all that we seek–goodness, unity, beauty, truth, and love–are no longer distant from us but are now completely present with us.”

Completely present. Complete presence. There is something wonderful, whole, and beautiful to that. In the deepest sense, that is home.

What do we do with all that? How should that inform our lives? Well, if death is a release, a homecoming, a rebirth, then it isn’t something to be feared or ignored. Being at peace with what happens at the end of our lives, we should focus on how we live our lives.

We should transfigure the small deaths–the failures, the fears, the setbacks–and try to grow in presence with others in love, grace, hospitality. We should look for and try to experience eternal presence in our temporal lives (we go back to chronos and kairos again).

O’Donohue reminds us:

“It is a strange and magical fact to be here, walking around in a body, to have a whole world within you and a world at your fingertips outside you. It is an immense privilege, and it is incredible that humans manage to forget the miracle of being here.”

If I think back to Shawshank Redemption, and “get busy living or get busy dying,” I can think of living as taking advantage of the miracle of being here. And I can think of get busy dying is forgetting that privilege, of allowing fear and negativity to control how we live, which would be not living to the fullest.

So Andy Dufresne may still be on to something.

We closed our last class this past Monday with part of a prayer from “A New Zealand Prayer Book,” in their Daily Devotions, excerpting from the Monday prayer. Since it is Monday as I write, we will close here with it as well:

From “A New Zealand Prayer Book”

From Monday Evening

There is nothing in death or life,
in the realm of spirits or superhuman powers,
in the world as it is or the world as it shall be,
in the forces of the universe, in heights or depths –
nothing in all creation
which can separate us from the love of God
which is in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Love never comes to an end.

Holy One, holy and eternal,
awesome, exciting and delightful in your holiness;
make us pure in heart to see you;
make us merciful to receive your kindness,
and to share our love with all your human family;
then will your name be hallowed on earth as in heaven.

Support us, Lord, all the day long,
until the shadows lengthen, and the evening comes,
the busy world is hushed, the fever of life is over,
and our work done;
then Lord, in your mercy, give us safe lodging,
a holy rest and peace at the last.

Amen.

It is Strange to Be Here

John O’Donohue’s book, “Anam Cara,” begins: “It is strange to be here. The mystery never leaves you.”

And that’s maybe as true a statement as we will ever encounter. Take our consciousness, the fact that we are thinking, feeling beings inhabiting bodies, add science, add faith, add civilization, observations–when you sit and think about it, it is strange to be here. There is no way around it.

At Christ Church Easton, we’ve just begun a six-week study of “Anam Cara.” Rev. Susie Leight and I and 20+ curious and daring friends embarked this week on the first section of the book, “The Mystery of Friendship,” and a power-packed prologue to help set the tone.

O’Donohue was a poet, theologian, philosopher, and former Catholic Priest. When I read about him and his life, I am jealous, thinking–that’s it, that’s how I want to live my life. His way of bringing together Celtic spirituality and Christianity infuses life and sacredness into everything we encounter–God, each other, Creation and the landscape we are a part of–in ways that mainstream western Christianity could do well to remember and to look more closely at. Which is part of what we are doing.

“Anam Cara” is a Gaelic expression translatable as “soul friend.” And O’Donohue lets us know that what he hopes to do with his book is to explore friendship in a “lyrical-speculative” form. His writing is a meandering, meditative way through beauty, friendship, the senses, that can leave me stunned and spinning at times.

It is strange to be here. And given that, friendship, reaching out to an other, another person, is maybe the only sensible thing to do, to find other people to walk through life with.

O’Donohue says that:

“Human presence is a creative and turbulent sacrament, a visible sign of invisible grace. Nowhere is there such intimate and frightening access to the mysterium. Friendship is the sweet grace that liberates us to approach, recognize, and inhabit this adventure.”

Thinking of friendship as a grace, as sacramental, puts us in an open frame of mind. In this strange, lonely world putting ourselves out there, finding friendships with other people, is a courageous and necessary act.

As he wanders through the first section of the book, O’Donohue focuses on light.

“Light is the secret presence of the divine. It keeps life awake. Light is a nurturing presence, which calls forth warmth and color in nature. The soul awakens and lives in light. It helps us to glimpse the sacred depths within us. Once human beings began to search for a meaning to life, light became one of the most powerful metaphors to express the eternity and depth of life.”

This week, reflecting on some of our “Anam Cara” reading, Susie used some of O’Donohue’s thoughts on light and darkness in her own musings. She writes:

“Inspired by JOD’s words, I decided to wake up just before dawn a few mornings a week, to watch “how the darkness breaks” and observe how “light can coax the dark” while pondering & praying the question, “I wonder what this will be?”

Many changes are on the horizon (all very good & exciting, but there is anxiety too) & so rather than placing all sorts of expectations around what is next (which is my tendency) I have decided to sit, watch and listen, trying to separate the artificial from the real, what is of God and the Spirit, of the world or my own. the question seems large enough to hold what is and what may be… ‘just as darkness brings rest and release, so the dawn brings awakening and renewal. In our mediocrity and distraction, we forget each day that we are privileged to live in a wondrous universe. Each day, the dawn unveils the mystery of this universe…’

sometimes my camera does stuff without me trying, thought this was a cool shot. more to come.”

That is wonderful. When we read something challenging, we should let it challenge us, inspire us, help us think. If it doesn’t seep into our everyday lives, our hopes, our dreams, our friendships, then why are we studying it together and discussing it?

In “Anam Cara” we are talking about friendship, we are talking about light, and we are talking about love. Anytime we are talking about God, we should be talking about love. God is love, and love is what unites us in friendship. O’Donohue writes:

“Love is the nature of the soul. When we love and allow ourselves to be loved, we begin more and more to inhabit the kingdom of the eternal. Fear changes into courage, emptiness becomes plenitude, and distance becomes intimate.”

Love is what brings us together, what unites us. And coming together as friends to discuss, to be opened up by, a book about the nature of and need for friendship stands out as significant, in and of itself.

O’Donohue closes the section on “The Mystery of Friendship” with a friendship blessing, which is beautiful, profound, and inspiring. I read it out loud to close our first class. I would encourage you to read it out loud as you read it, and I hope that its words and sentiments bless you today and every day. The photo after it is one of Rev. Susie at her ordination to the deaconate earlier this year, along with our dear friend, the deacon Rev. Barbara Coleman. Soul friends in action.

“A Friendship Blessing”
By John O’Donohue

May you be blessed with good friends.
May you learn to be a good friend to yourself.
May you be able to journey to that place in your soul where there is great love, warmth, feeling, and forgiveness.
May this change you.
May it transfigure that which is negative, distant, or cold in you.
May you be brought in to the real passion, kinship, and affinity of belonging.
May you treasure your friends.
May you be good to them and may you be there for them;
may they bring you all the blessings, challenges, truth, and light that you need for your journey.
May you never be isolated.
May you always be in the gentle nest of belonging with your anam cara.